Alaska looked down. Noticing that his arm was in control of itself. But this time it wasn't broken. It was pulsating, an eye on the front of the forearm. FIngers turning into large claws.
Niner was busy as it was, stepping out the back of the Pelican to notice what the mans arm was doing, and did not have the time for this, “You gonna get that fixed or just stand there….?”













